The Things We Do for Love
by Bad Ass Female Fighter
Summary: Time Travel, Genderswitch Jonerys AU: Overwhelmed with the pain of murdering her lover and King in the throne room, she takes her life in order to put an end to her suffering. But the Gods have a wicked sense of humor by sending her to the past so she can save Westeros the right way. Along the way, she finds herself falling love again. Can she fight her feelings?


_**Hello all. Another Jonerys Genderflip for everyone. I gotta say, after years of watching Game of Thrones and investing all my passion into each episode right up to the finale...I was passed. Piece o'shit show writer never gave us that happy ending we fucking craved. Assholes. So as a way to vent my frustrations at them, this popped up. I wanted this to be a one shot, but this is gonna be another multichapter fic. I'm trying to finish this story with many words and few chapters. Three is what I'm aiming for. Anyway, get your tissues, don't cry in a public place, don't lose your shit unless it's in a toilet, and enjoy.**_

* * *

She felt cold, colder than she has ever felt in her life. It wasn't from winter, or death itself...no, it was an empty kind of coldness that tore her from the inside out as she knelt over her lover's body, his eyes staring up into her tearful pained expression as he struggled to breathe. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." she sobbed, his blood on her hands as she cupped his cheek the way she had done before in their moments of intimacy, when they were just man and woman. Only right now, they were murdered and murderer.

Pain and guilt ripped her soul to pieces when she felt the last of his breath leave his system. Her body shook, quaking with loss, grief and anguish. When she couldn't keep it inside no longer, she screamed, howling over the man she had just killed for the sake of the realm, to save the world from his tyranny, from the madness he became. Sobs racked her body as she hugged herself to his chest, trying to saver what was left of his dragon warmth she wholeheartedly loved in their brief time together. She knows how it feels to be betrayed, to be stabbed through the heart by those she trusted. But this feels so much worse because her heart was ripped out of her body the moment she drove that dagger into his chest.

Raising herself from his corpse, she looked down at his face, how peaceful he looks whenever he slept, but this sleep he will never wake from. A snowflake fell on his eye, then quickly melted as it ran down his temple, as though he was weeping from her betrayal. She knew she will be executed for treason, for this dishonorable act, even though it was to save this world from being turned to ashes. She didn't care to live anymore, not after what she had done to him, to herself.

Looking at the dagger sticking out of his chest, she knew what she had to do. Her fingers curled around the handle of the blade and wretched it out of his body, the cold steel coated in his blood. Looking back down at her forever sleeping King, she took his lifeless hand in hers and placed the dagger in it, enclosing his fingers firmly around the handle. Grasping his hand and the dagger in both hands, she positioned the blood soaked blade towards her heart. She looked at her lover, his handsome Targaryen features etched permanently into her mind and heart, remembering their happy moments together, when they made love on the boat and when they fought and won side by side in the Great War. She didn't register the feeling of the knife piercing her flesh, nor the blood that flowed out of her body, she kept only her eyes on him, smiling as blood leaked out the corner of her mouth.

With the last of her strength, she removed his lifeless hand from the handle, her body swayed, but she didn't let go of his hand. She didn't feel herself hitting the snow covered ground, all she saw was his face that was turned to her. Her breathing became shallow, but she didn't care, all she felt was his hand in hers as she closed her eyes, welcoming her end, that peaceful yet melancholy smile on her face.

* * *

Lyra gasped as she awakened, violently lurching forward in her bed, her hands flying to her chest, feeling her heart beating rapidly under her palm. Sweat coated her skin, causing the tunic she was wearing to stick to her. She breathed heavily, trying to calm herself as she looked around the room, her eyes widening when she recognized it as her childhood bedroom. Her mouth fell open in shock, words failing to come out when she saw every simple detail that made up her room.

She swallowed her saliva, her throat feeling dry as she tried to regain her bearings. Her hand was still on her chest, but it felt strange, it was smoother beneath her night shirt. With wide eyes, she lifted the fabric of her shirt, her mouth falling open again when she saw not a blemish, no scar painting her skin from that mutiny. She ran her fingers over the skin, disbelief written over her features as memories of what marred her pale flesh resurfaced.

Lowering her shirt, she slowly got out of bed, her legs trembled as she made her way to the chest that had her clothes as she remembered them, putting them on with practiced ease before leaving the room. She felt as though she was in a trance as she walked around the familiar halls of her home. Laughter reached her ears when she passed by the balcony that overlooked the courtyard. The moment her eyes found the source of that laughter, all breath left her body when she saw Robb and Theon training with swords under the instruction of Ser Rodrick. Off to the side, she saw Bran and Rickon watching their big brother and foster brother spar with each other. She blinked upon seeing Bran, her younger brother walking and standing beside the youngest of their pack, her baby brother Rickon.

Tears sprang forth as the last memory she had of her baby brother was a boy, barely a man, running across the field with a terrified expression until an arrow pierced through his back. Her eyes turned to Bran, seeing him standing and laughing again felt like a distant memory compared to the emotionless cripple who had visions. Tears streamed down her face when she directed her gaze to her elder brother, Robb, still so innocent to wars but ready to fight. The last time she saw him was when they had their final spar, they were evenly matched, so it was considered a draw.

"Lyra?" she turned her head to face the familiar aged voice of Maester Luwin, his concerned looking at her in surprise at the tears that streamed down her lovely pale features.

"Maester... Luwin?" Her voice rasped, as though she has not talked for years as she stared at the gentle Maester of Winterfell.

"You should be resting in your bed, Lyra." Maester Luwin admonished gently as he approached the trembling young woman.

Lyra tilted her head in confusion, "Why?"

"Don't you remember? You collapsed so suddenly during your spar with Robb." Maester Luwin answered, hoping to jog her memory, but by her confused expression, she did not.

"I... fainted?" Lyra asked, her voice quiet like a whispering breeze as she tried to recall what happened, but all she can remember is that throne room and her dead King.

The Maester sighed as he gently took the girl by her arm and guided her back to her room, "Let's get you back to bed, I'll have the kitchen bring you some soup." Luwin spotted a servant girl who was about to walk passed them, "Please inform Lord Stark that Lyra has awakened." he requested as the young girl nodded then scurried off to do her task.

"'Lord Stark?'" Lyra echoed, her voice cracking as memories of her Father, no, her _Uncle, _and the painful truth about her birth flashed before her eyes. She found it hard to call him 'Father' after the lie he had to tell for Lyanna's sake, her Stark Mother.

"Yes, Lord Stark has been increasingly concerned for you." Maester Luwin said as they continued their journey back to her room, "You were sleeping for days, he and your siblings were very worried about you. They were afraid you had died in that courtyard."

Lyra halted in her steps, making the Maester stop beside her, a haunted expression filling her face, "Lyra?" Maester Luwin asked in concern at the distant pained look on the girl.

Lyra was silent as memories of what she had done to herself resurface. "I did die...but then I woke up." she said slowly, her eyes turning to Luwin in a ghost-like manner.

Luwin sighed through his nose as he patted her shoulder, "It was only a dream child. Just a dream." he said, hoping to reassure her as he lead her back to her room. Lyra was on auto pilot as she returned to her room, her legs underneath the fur blankets as she sat up against the head board, her eyes vacant and pained as Luwin set himself to the task of examining her. She remained unresponsive to Luwin's voice as questions flitted through her head: Was this heaven or hell? Did she really die? Was everything that happened before she drove a knife into her heart a nightmare...or was it a vision of the future?

"Lyra?" a deep Northern accented voice pulled her from her thoughts, making her look up to see the man she had always called her Father sitting on her bedside. His grey eyes were filled with concern as he stared at the spitting image of his sister, her Mother.

"Lord Stark?" she said, her voice raspy as she remembered the grief she felt upon learning the news of his execution.

Ned placed the back of his hand to her forehead, trying to gauge her temperature, "Maester Luwin told me that you were not feeling well. Which is to be expected when you fell a few days ago." The feeling of his warm calloused hands on her forehead brought back more memories of a life that was forgotten. Tears welled up suddenly, surprising Ned when water fell from her eyes, staining her beautiful yet expressionless face.

"Lyra?" Ned exclaimed, brushing her tears away with the pads of his thumb, trying to console his 'daughter'.

"You were dead." Lyra whispered, staring up at her Uncle who blinked in surprise. "You died...then Robb... Lady Catelyn...Rickon...Maester Luwin...Ser Rodrick." she continued as she recalled the chain reaction that destroyed their family, "Sansa was imprisoned by the Lannisters, Arya, Bran and Rickon had to survive on their own." her eyes were distant, "All the horror that befell House Stark was all because of the lies bred within the South."

Ned Stark was not sure what she was talking about, but by her haunted look, he could tell that she was in some kind of pain. "Lyra. Lyra look at me." His large gentle hands held the sides of her head, making her look into his eyes, "It was only a nightmare child, only a dream." he said, trying to reassure the young girl whose eyes were filled with pain. "Was it?" Lyra questioned after a long moment of silence.

Before Ned could respond, three pairs of feet came rushing into the bedroom with a resounding, "Lyra!" the girl in question barely had time to react before she was hugged by Arya, Bran and Rickon. Robb followed at a calm pace behind their younger siblings, a smile set on his youthful face when he saw his half-sister being crushed by the smaller ones.

Warmth filled Lyra when she felt the embrace of her younger siblings, her arms slowly going around them in response as she held them to her person. She held back her tears as she kissed each of their foreheads, lingering on Rickon's because he was the one she missed the most. "You finally woke up." Robb said, relieved to see his sister awake at last.

Lyra looked up at her elder brother, realizing just now how much she had missed him as well. She kept her tears back and gave him a painful yet happy smile, relieved to see him once again.

She slackened her hold on her siblings to get a good look at them, remembering how each of them looked before she ran away to join the Night's Watch a lifetime ago. But there was one sibling missing, "Where's Sansa?"

"Who cares?" Arya said, scoffing at the idea of her redheaded sister.

"I do." Lyra answered, surprising her siblings-cousins-with her words.

"Why?" Arya asked, staring up at her favorite big sister who had that pained smile on her face, "Because I do." Lyra said, remembering her strong resilient sister who she trusted the safety of North with, the one who she promised to return to when the war was over.

"Alright children, let your sister rest and return to your lessons." Ned said, watching the emotions play across her face when she held each of her sibling.

As expected, the three little wolves whined at their Lord Father while Robb chuckled in amusement. "She's been sleeping forever, Father. She's had enough rest." Rickon whined, latching onto Lyra, refusing to let her go.

Lyra smiled down at her baby brother, petting his head that was buried in her stomach. "Forgive me, but I'm afraid I am still sleepy, and I have not fully come back to myself." she gently said to her little pup, her voice holding that musical lilt whenever she spoke softly to her younger siblings. "You should all do as Lord Stark says. I promise, I'll play with you when I am fully awake." she said as Rickon stared up at her bewitching violet-grey eyes. After a moment, Rickon let out a huff, "Okay Lyra." he said as he climbed off the bed with Arya and Brandon before the exited out the room. Robb stayed behind and smiled at his sister, "Get well soon sister, I want to have that rematch." Lyra laughed softly in response as he followed his younger siblings out the door, leaving his Father alone with her.

"Lord Stark," Lyra began after a moment of silence, gaining his attention, "I know this will sound mad coming from me. But you need to know what's going to happen in a few weeks from now." she said, staring intensely at her Father figure who nodded, though reluctantly, "In the near future, there will be a deserter who claims to have seen the White Walkers return beyond the Wall. You will behead him as is your duty as Warden of the North. On the journey home, we will encounter a dead Direwolf and her orphaned pups, one for each of the Stark children as the Gods intended, fore they will need them in the wars to come."

Ned listened to his 'daughter's' words, the manner in which she spoke sounded faraway, as though she was in another world. For as long as he's known her, she has always been honest, never once telling a lie. But what she is speaking of, sounds unbelievable, something that cannot be true. "You don't have to believe me, I am just giving you a warning. However you interpret it is up to you." she added as a servant girl entered with a bowl of soup for Lyra. Ned took the soup from her, thanking her as he sent her on her way before giving the bowl to Lyra.

"You should return to your duties Lord Stark, there are other matters that require your time than attending to a bastard." Lyra said as she dipped her spoon into the broth before taking a sip.

Ned gave a small unnoticeable smile at how she spoke, almost with authority before he rose to his feet. "Finish your soup and get some rest, I'll come back when I'm finished." he said, giving her shoulder a firm Fatherly squeeze before making his way towards the door.

"There's one more thing you should know in advance." Lyra said, stopping Ned in his tracks, her eyes planted on his back, "Jon Arryn dies very soon and King Robert will come North to make you his Hand." Ned froze at what she had just said about what will happen to his foster parent. Slowly, he turned to see Lyra's expression, but what he saw was something he had hoped never to see upon an of his children, trueborn or otherwise. Lyra's eyes were hardened by tragedy and war, something that befuddles him considering there has never been a war in years, not since the Greyjoy Rebellion.

"You _will _refuse him." Lyra said, though this sounded like an order than a request as she gave him a look that spoke of wisdom and firmness.

"And if I don't refuse?" Ned asked, unsure what to make of this new Lyra that has just awakened from her sudden slumber.

"Ask me that question when you receive that raven scroll, My Lord." Lyra said as she returned to drinking her soup.

Ned couldn't form the words to respond, his mind was in a jumble at what she predicted. Unable to find the correct response, he left the room and returned to his duties as Lord of Winterfell.

* * *

The weeks that followed became a blur for Lyra. She lived each day in her usual manner from before she left for the Night's Watch whilst secretly making plans to change things before they come to pass. She took this second chance to spend time with each of her siblings, relishing and savoring every moment with them, all but one who continued to keep her distance from Ned Stark's 'bastard'. While it hurt her not to speak to Sansa like they used to when they were reunited after years of separation, she knew she cannot force their sisterhood onto the girl, not unless she wants to damage it any further than it already was. So she kept a watchful protective eye on her little redhead when she wasn't looking, wanting to keep her innocence in tact before the Lannisters, Boltons, and Littlefinger get their claws on her. Lyra refused to let that happen again. This time, she _will_ save her sister.

Lyra already commissioned for Mikken to forge a sword for Arya, knowing that she will need it to protect herself and their family. She wanted so badly to say a proper goodbye to her little she-wolf this time, but she could not risk Arya trying to stop her. So she settled with writing her a letter to her and each of the Stark children in advance before she set out on her journey.

Finally, the day came where she, Bran, and Robb went with Lord Stark to execute the deserter. She looked forward and dreaded this day because it would be one step closer to leaving her family again. She went through the motions of what she did with her siblings before they left with Lord Stark. Lyra stood stationary behind her brothers as the deserter was brought forward in chains, trembling as he told Eddard that he saw the White Walkers. Lyra watched her Uncle with calm certain eyes as the wind blew her hair in front of her. While it was subtle, she caught the twitch within his shoulders, getting the sense that he is preventing himself from looking at Lyra in question for her prediction. She didn't blink when the deserter was executed, releasing a quiet sigh as she walked towards her horse as Lord Stark went to talk to Bran, to teach him why he did what he did. She mounted her four hoofed companion before looking up at where her Uncle sat atop his steed, his eyes locking onto hers, a silent question being directed at her. She gave him a slow nod, conveying that what had happened was exactly how it went.

Their group made the journey back, and just like before, a dead stag laid in their path. She watched silently as they debated what could've killed the creature before she slipped away towards the spot where her siblings' future companions were located. She didn't respond to Ned Stark calling her name as she continued onward towards where the dead Direwolf mother and her pups were. Her face was set in its usual stoic demeanor as she knelt beside the corpse and the helpless five pups. She barely acknowledged Lord Stark who knelt beside her, his face exactly the same from the first time they found this creature. She turned her head silently to her adopted Father, nodding at his questioning gaze that has seen what she has seen, and she could tell that he was beginning to realize that her visions were not madness at all. While they talked about the dead creature, Lyra handed Bran the pup she knew to be Summer. When Lord Stark suggested a quick death to spare the pups, Lyra spoke up like before, "Lord Stark, there are five pups, one for each of the Stark children. The Direwolf is a sigil of your House. Your sons and daughters were meant to have them." she said, locking eyes with her adopted Father, willing him to see her reason before he relented, sternly telling Bran and Robb that the pups are their responsibility from now on.

Lyra remained in her kneeling position before the dead Direwolf as Robb handed two pups to Theon then carried two more himself while Bran held onto Summer. For a long moment, Lyra stared at the dead vacant eyes of the mighty creature, wondering what she was thinking about as she was dying, what last words she shared with her pups before she left this world. This creature knew what was coming from beyond the Wall, and took great pains and risks to bring her children South in order to save them from the dead.

"Lyra." Ned called to his daughter who looked down at the dead creature with saddened eyes before they turned to her Lord. "Lord Stark, I would like to remain here and give her a proper burial." she requested, ignoring the strange looks her brothers and Theon were giving her.

"You're gonna give a beast a funeral?" Theon asked, laughing mockingly, earning him a glare from Robb and an icy stare from Lyra that made the squid flinch slightly at how frightening she looked.

"This one died for her children." Lyra stated, giving him a cold glare, "She deserves that much." she added, not seeing how Ned looked deep in thought at her statement. With a sigh, he gave her his blessing, "We'll leave behind a shovel for you, and you will come back before sun down." he sternly said as Lyra nodded her head, "Of course My Lord." With that, Ned trudged back to their horses with Theon, Robb and Bran following close behind him, the latter two smiling at her for her respect to the dead Direwolf.

Jory came back with a shovel that was used to bury the deserter. She took it from him, smiling in thanks before he ran back to join the group. When she heard the horses leave the area, she immediately stood up and turned to a spot beneath a tree where she remembered a certain someone hiding from the world. Moving the branches away, she smiled at the white fur ball curled up, his red eyes staring up at her with apprehension.

"Ghost." she whispered, gently picking up the albino pup and holding him in her arms. He whined as he nestled into her warmth, seeking her protection from the harsh world around them.

Lyra smiled, cuddling her companion a while longer before setting the pup down to remove her fur cloak and wrap it around the white fluff, "Stay right there Ghost, I need to bury your Mother." she said to the little one who whined as he was bundled up in her scent, making him familiar with his new caretaker and master. Standing up after being assured that Ghost will not go anywhere, she picked up the shovel and found a spot that was perfect for the Direwolf Mother to rest peacefully in.

Ghost watched the girl dig a hole for his Mother, her scent reminding him of his brothers and sisters, though with a hint of ashes. He didn't know what this girl was, or why she saved him and his siblings, but he liked her already.

After an hour of shoveling dirt, Lyra deemed the hole deep enough for burial before she climbed out and took the Direwolf Mother by her hind legs and dragged her into her final resting place. After piling the dirt back into the hole with the Direwolf in it, she gathered Ghost in her arms and laid flowers on top of the dirt mound as a way of honoring the creature. Cradling Ghost close to her chest, she bowed her head in prayer for the Direwolf's soul, "Great Direwolf, I'm sorry for what has happened to you. The Old Gods will welcome you with open arms for your strength and courage for coming so far from the Wall." Ghost whimpered in her arms as he wept for his Mother. "You can rest now, Great Direwolf, your children are under the protection of House Stark from now on, this I swear by the Old Gods." she added, vowing to keep her children safe from the Lannisters, Boltons and Freys.

Rising to her feet, she left the grave with Ghost in her arms as she mounted her horse and rode back home, determined to change things now more than ever.

* * *

Lyra sat against the white trunk of the weirwood tree with Ghost's head in her lap. A month had passed since the pups were brought to Winterfell, and like before, her cousins quickly bonded with their Direwolf companions who have grown to the size of regular dogs. She stared at the steam rising up from the pond, her fingers caressing Ghost's soft fur as she waited patiently.

She didn't turn her head when she heard footsteps approaching the tree. When they stopped in front of her and said tree, Lyra spoke, "You received the scroll."

"Aye." Eddard said, holding the parchment in his hand that detailed Jon Arryn's death and the King's arrival to the North. How she knew about the deserter, about the young Direwolves, and the Hand's death has left him with more questions than he could fathom. He needed to know what she knows, what is going on through her head.

Lyra closed her eyes, sighing through her nose, "Now, ask me that question." she said, turning to face her adopted Father.

Eddard was silent as he stared at his sister's incarnation who wore the Dragon Prince's expression. "Do I accept Robert's invitation to become Hand?" he asked, watching Lyra's stoic face that watched him back.

"You do, unfortunately." Lyra answered, her voice lowering in regret for not being there to stop Ned from leaving Winterfell.

"What happens?" Ned asked, though he was afraid to know the answer.

So it was there, before the heart tree that she told him everything, from the moment he learned of Jon Arryn's murder, to his execution, and to the fall of House Stark. However, she left out parts of Brandon Stark's fall because she knew that was the start of his journey to becoming the Three Eyed Raven in order to fight the Night King.

By the end of her story, Eddard had to sit down in order to carefully process what his sister's child described to him. "What should I do?" he asked, fearing everything Lyra described to him.

"Refuse him. Starks do not belong in the South, it is not your way." Lyra stated before bowing her head, "Robert will also want to unite your Houses by betrothing Joffrey to Sansa. That is something that can _never _happen. He is a monster that would have his Kingsguard rip her clothes off and beat her before the court for his own sick twisted amusement." she growled, still angry at what her beloved sister had suffered within the poisonous South.

Eddard shivered at the horrifying punishment happening to his innocent child, "I won't let that happen to Sansa, she doesn't deserve that."

"No, she doesn't." Lyra said, "No matter how awful she treated me, she is still my baby sister. I will not let that animal taint her." Eddard had to smile at her steadfast loyalty to protecting her family.

"I fear that Robert will betroth Sansa to Joffrey whether or not I refuse his offer." Eddard stated, fearing the fate of his child.

Lyra placed a hand to her chin, "Yes, you are correct. Even if you refuse, the betrothal will still happen whether we like it or not, he'll even have Sansa come to the Capital so she could get to know her future husband while you remain here. She'll be a hostage, a prisoner." she said, her fear for her little sister skyrocketing as she tried to figure out a way to save her from that fate.

Eddard could see that Lyra is trying very hard to keep her family from falling apart, and with the way she has been acting as of late, it looked as though she has the entire world on her shoulder. His eyes widened as a solution came to mind, "Maybe I shouldn't refuse."

Lyra turned to him with an incredulous expression, "That is something we are _trying _to avoid."

Eddard stared at Lyra who looked more like a Direwolf than before, "I'll only become his Hand _if _he doesn't betroth Joffrey to Sansa." he paused as Lyra's eyes widened at what he was suggesting, "Robert is coming North for the sole reason to make me run the Seven Kingdoms. If I offer myself, Sansa will never have to suffer Joffrey's wrath. It is the only alternative we have."

Lyra's eyes shone with anger and fear at what her Father figure was suggesting. "You are going to that disgusting South despite the warnings I gave you?" she questioned, rising to her feet as she stared at Eddard Stark, her Direwolf sitting on the ground by his master's feet.

Eddard stared up at his daughter's anger filled eyes, that kind of temper reminding him of his sister. "It is the only way I can appease Robert while keeping Sansa and Arya safe." he said as Lyra let out an exasperated breath as she paced back and forth in front of him.

"If you go to the South, you'll be surrounded by schemers and liars thirsting to carve you to pieces in order to climb to the top." Lyra stated, her worst fears coming to light.

Eddard stood up and tried to console her, "Lyra, you love your sister. You want to protect her, don't you?"

Lyra wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop herself from trembling, "I do. I really do... Sansa, Arya, Robb, Bran and Rickon." she said as tears threatened to spill from her eyes, "I'm trying to save them...I'm trying to save you." she said, looking up at Ned. "The North needs you, your family needs you. I don't want to lose you again." her voice cracked, shaking her head as she failed to keep her emotions in check.

Eddard's heart broke at the sight of her tears. How rare it is to see Lyra crying before him. Doing what any Father would do, he wrapped his arms around his claimed daughter, holding her to his chest to soothe her pain and worries that were thrust upon her to early. She sobbed into his chest, the pain of losing him once and the fear of going through that again becoming too much for her to bear.

"Lyra..." Ned paused, unsure how to proceed, "...I won't repeat my mistakes. Just tell me what I should never do the moment I enter the Capital. If you tell me, then I can make things right before they turn wrong." He pulled away to look down at her tear stained face. Instinctively, he brushed her tears away with his thumbs, "You are my blood, I raised you, I trust you, so I need you to trust me. Help me, help you."

Lyra swallowed then hiccupped as she tried to reign in her emotions, "I can't stop you from going into the Lion's Den." she inhaled, "But I can tell you how to get out of it."

Eddard nodded as Lyra fought to calm down. After a few minutes of breathing exercises, she was finally able to speak again, "You must never trust Petyr Baelish, he is the most dangerous person in all Seven Kingdoms, he's the one who causes the War of the Five Kings." she began, having knowledge of the root of the all the tragedies that befell their family, "Keep to your own devices and do not look into Jon Arryn's murder, or the reason for it, no matter how much your honor demands it." she gasped as she stared up at Lord Stark who was hesitant at first, but then agreed to her instructions. "And finally, when Robert Baratheon dies, you come back to the North. The Lannisters won't care when he names you Lord Regent, they _will_ rip that piece of paper and seize power over the Iron Throne. Promise me, Lord Stark, that you will return to Winterfell when your service to Robert comes to an end." She said, pleading her Uncle, "Promise me."

Those two words that have haunted him since Lyanna's death echoed in his mind, Lyra's voice sounding exactly like his sister's that it was beyond frightening. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nodded, "I promise." he said, repeating those same words that were spoken to Lyanna when she held Lyra in his arms for the first time. Lyra breathed out a sigh of relief, "Thank you, Lord Stark. Thank you." she said, feeling some of the weight leaving her shoulders before she hugged him again.

"Winter is Coming..." Lyra whispered to Ned Stark, "...and the White Walkers return with it." she added, feeling her Lord stiffen before she took a step back to look him in the eyes. "I've seen them in the other life. They've come back, and we need to prepare for it." she said, fear and warning etched into her features.

"How?" Eddard asked, not wanting to believe her words, but knew that what she says is true after what he had just experienced these last few days.

"Fire, valyrian steel, and dragon glass." Lyra answered, "The Stark sword, Ice, can shatter them, and there is a mountain of dragon glass sitting in Dragonstone."

"Fire is hard to create in the winter winds." Eddard stated, knowing how difficult it is to even make fire if you're not in a castle.

"I know." Lyra took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she is about to tell him, "Which is why I am leaving Winterfell soon to get help from Aegon Targaryen." As she expected, Eddard's eyes widened at what she has just told him, "What?"

"In months time, he will hatch three dragons_...fire breathing dragons_." she added, staring at Ned with resolve and certainty, "He'll come for the Iron Throne soon, he'll fight for it to save the country from the Lannisters. When winter comes, we'll fight it with Fire and Blood."

Eddard was silent at what she had just told him, feeling overwhelmed by what will be coming from beyond the Wall, even more so by the thought of her leaving the safety of his home. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked, watching his sister's child who was battle hardened and ready to fight again.

"In my other life, I ran away to join the Night's Watch without telling you a proper goodbye." Lyra bowed her head in shame, "That is something I have always regretted. I don't want to repeat that." she paused at the look in Lord Stark's face that told her that she is not leaving without his permission. "There's too much at stake. I have to leave soon. I can't tell you when, but I wanted to tell you goodbye..." her voice broke, "...because I don't expect to come back alive." she bowed her head, biting her lip to stop herself from crying again. "I'm sorry." was the last thing she said before she turned on her heel and left the Godswood with Ghost trailing behind her faithfully.

* * *

On the night of a new moon, Lyra was ready to go. Late into the night, she slipped her final letters under the doors of the Stark children to tell them how much she loved each of them. For Arya, she snuck into her room and left Needle and letter in a spot where only the younger can find it. With her bags packed, food stored and her Direwolf walking beside her, she quietly made her way to the stables, being careful not to wake or alert anybody close by.

Ghost sat on his hind legs watching his master saddled up her horse until his ears perked up before turning his head to see a newcomer standing in in front of the stall they were in. Lyra froze in her task before turning to see Lord Stark standing before her, his face ever so solemn as he stared at her. She fought herself to keep from fidgeting under his gaze, feeling and looking smaller within her large fur cloak that was meant to keep her warm.

"Lord Stark." She greeted, mirroring his stoic expression, looking behind him to see if there were any guards he had brought along to stop her from leaving.

Eddard didn't say anything, he stepped towards her until he was standing directly in front of her, his height easily dwarfing the young girl. Lyra didn't break eye contact, determined to stand her ground against the man who she has revered and respected as her Liege Lord and Father figure. The stare was finally broken when she heard something jingle in front of her. Looking down, she saw a pouch being held in Eddard Stark's palm before he pulled it open to reveal gold and silver coins inside.

"There is enough in there to buy you passage from White Harbor to Essos." Eddard said as he pulled the string to close up the pouch before taking her hand and placing it in her fingers. "It'll be scorching hot over there so you will need to change out of those winter clothes and into something more comfortable for that type of climate." he advised, smiling slightly at Lyra's confusion that went from the pouch and her Liege Lord.

At her questioning gaze, he answered, "I will not stop you Lyra. No matter how much I dislike the idea of you leaving Winterfell, I understand your reason for doing so." he smiled sadly, feeling as though time had gone too quickly for them.

Lyra swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, "M-My Lord, I can't take this." she said, holding the coin pouch towards Eddard Stark, not finding it within herself to accept it. Eddard smiled as he pushed it back to her, "It's yours Lyra...it's everything your Mother saved up before she passed." He explained, causing Lyra to gasp softly at the mention of her Mother. "I promised her that I would take care of you. She'd' have wanted you to have it the moment you were ready to leave." he said, leaving out the part that some of that money was earned by Rhaegar whenever he played his harp in the street. Lyra smiled a little at the thought of her Mother before she stashed the pouch in a safe spot on her person so she would not lose it.

"Now," Eddard said, clearing his throat to conceal a sniffle that wanted to make itself known, "best be off. Without a doubt, your brother will a send a search party to come looking for you at daybreak." he said as he and Lyra guided the horse out of the stables into the courtyard. They stood before the gates that lead out of Winterfell, for a long while, she stared at the opening, suddenly feeling frightened for what she will do next.

"You're afraid." Eddard stated, standing beside her, catching a hint of fear within her eyes.

"Maybe a little." she admitted looking down at her feet, feeling ashamed.

"Good, because that is the only time where you must be brave." Eddard said, laying his hand on her shoulder, giving her a firm squeeze as a way to lend her strength.

Lyra turned to face her Uncle and was met by a look of pride a Father gives their child. Tears came to her eyes as she stared up at Lord Stark, "I never got the chance to tell you before, but this time, I want to say 'thank you'." she said, smiling up at him with affection, "You raised me among your children, as one of your own, there is no greater honor than learning from you." she sniffled, but kept her tears at bay, "You're a good Father...to me, your children, and all the North. You've made Grandfather and Uncle Brandon proud." she said, surprising Eddard as she praised him. Lyra smiled up at him before wrapping her arms around him, catching him off guard for a moment before returning her embrace. Lyra held onto him, breathing in his scent as she buried herself into his chest.

Loosening her hold on him slightly, she stood on her toes to whisper in his ear, "Lyanna is also very proud of you as well. Thank you for keep your promise to her... Uncle." she felt him freeze up as she stepped back, but his arms were still on her shoulders. Words were lost on Eddard as he stared wide eyed at what she just said. "I know why you never said her name, and why you had to lie...and I forgive you." she added, her voice barely above a whisper.

A tear fell down his cheek, feeling the burden of the greatest secret in Westeros being lifted off his shoulder. "You knew for quite a while now." he stated, swallowing his saliva, unsure what else to say as he continued watching his niece. "There is so much I want to tell you about your Mother...so much." he said, thinking and talking about his beloved sister being too painful for him.

"The next time we see each other, we'll talk about Mother." Lyra said, stepping away to mount her horse as Ghost panted right next to her, ready to take off towards the unknown.

"One last thing Lord Stark," Lyra began, "Tell Lady Catelyn that I forgive her, and tell her who my Mother's name was." she said, looking down at her Uncle, "I don't want the two of you spending the rest of your lives with that mystery between you. You owe her that much." Eddard was surprised by her humble yet dangerous request she made of him, but the look she gave him from atop that horse stilled his tongue because he swore to the Old Gods he saw _both _of her parents in one person.

He bowed his head, "I will, I promise." he said, happy that he can finally tell his wife the truth after twenty years.

Lyra nodded as she prepared herself to leave for White Harbor, "I wish you good fortune, Lord Stark. Winter is Coming." she said, bidding him a farewell and reminding him of what's coming from beyond the Wall.

"And you as well... Princess." he added quietly, but Lyra heard him all the same, making her smile a little before facing forward, determination steeling over her features. With a firm kick, her horse shot out of the gates of Winterfell with Ghost trailing behind her like a shadow.

Eddard watched his sister's daughter leave his home, his heart bleeding as she disappeared into the night. Even now, he still considered her one of his own, and had to fight his parental and Direwolf instinct to bring his pup back.

Taking a deep breath, he willed his legs to carry him back inside. However, two steps forward, he felt eyes on him. Looking up, he saw his wife, clad in a robe and night dress, watching from the courtyard entrance with her Tully blue eyes that were wide with surprise and question, no doubt from witnessing her husband send his bastard off. With a sigh, he stepped towards Catelyn and lead her back to their chambers, "There's something I need to tell you Cat." he whispered as he shut the door mentally preparing himself for what he is about to tell his wife.

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**_I apologize if I made some of you cry. Though I will admit, I cry when writing emotional scenes. I know, I'm pathetic. But anyway, I hope this was to your satisfaction and that you would be so kind as to leave a review. I don't expect to update very quickly because I want to finish this with few but very long chapters as possible. Until then, thank you for reading._**


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